


this is thriller, thriller night

by historiologies



Series: love me like you do [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Maid Costume, Praise Kink, Rimming, corsets, happy november 1st, the kinky marrieds have returned, very barely there breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 15:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/pseuds/historiologies
Summary: A year after the events of"i put a spell on you (because you're mine)", Soonyoung doesn't feel like trick-or-treating this year.At least, not with the kids.





	this is thriller, thriller night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wonuza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonuza/gifts).



> Happiest birthday to my fellow old squad member, vodka aunt clubbee, sister in bitterness and partner in filth, ao3 user wonuza!!!!! I hope you enjoy this, as it turned out to be quite enjoyable for me too. Also I need... Soonyoung in this costume... I'm just saying. I hope you have the BEST day, it's what you deserve. I love you so much!!
> 
> To everyone else, I hope you all enjoy the return of the kinky marrieds. Also greet Amber a happy birthday please!!

“Are we doing the thing this year?”

Wonwoo looks up from the article he’s making tiny marks on, glasses sitting almost on the tip of his nose in his distraction. He blinks at the sudden remark that suddenly disturbs the silence of their little living room.

“What?”

“You know,” Soonyoung says, sighing as he flops onto the couch opposite Wonwoo’s armchair and turns on the TV. He skims through their Netflix queue, frowning. He really doesn’t like the platform’s selection around this time. “The thing where we have to prepare a truckload of candy and give children around the building sugar highs for at least three nights in a row?”

The corner of Wonwoo’s mouth quirks as he makes yet another mark on the article. Soonyoung’s almost tempted to crane his head over and read what he’s marking.

“You mean giving out candy for trick-or-treaters on Friday for Halloween?”

Soonyoung finally decides on old episodes of Avatar: the Last Airbender, since both he and Wonwoo were big fans of the Gaang. “Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“Do you want to?”

He finishes Katara’s whole opening monologue before answering. “I’m sort of not in the social mood this year.” He doesn’t mention the tiff he got into with Camille from 24C when her chihuahua got off his leash and tore his good slacks a new fancy hole at the hems. Honestly, he loves dogs, but hers was a little devil.

A soft chuckle sounds from Wonwoo, and he finally sets aside the paper he’s poring over to sidle over to Soonyoung, who is still resolutely staring at the television screen. Soonyoung resists the urge to shiver as Wonwoo runs a hand through his head of bright silver hair, meaning to comfort him. “Are you feeling okay?” Wonwoo asks, worry underlying his tone. 

Soonyoung sighs; sometimes Wonwoo misses the mark so completely. He pulls Wonwoo down onto the sofa next to him, tucking his arm into his. “I just don’t want to be around the kids this year. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Wonwoo says. He pushes up his glasses and peers at Soonyoung. “I only did it last year because I thought it was what you wanted. Besides, I’m working late that night.”

Soonyoung pouts at him. “I thought you wiggled out of night editor duties.”

“I thought I did too,” Wonwoo mimics Soonyoung’s pout back at him, but accompanies it with a tiny poke into Soonyoung’s side to show that he’s just kidding. “Margaret backed out of taking it out of my hands. I don’t have the old ‘but what about my book?’ excuse to pull out of my pocket this time.”

“That’s a shame…”

Wonwoo laughs, loudly and suddenly. “Tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours, Kwon.”

Soonyoung tries to look innocent. “Maybe I thought we could just have our own little costume party.” He only barely resists fluttering his lashes.

Wonwoo bites back a laugh, raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“I’m just saying,” Soonyoung rationalizes, shrugging casually. “I already bought a costume and it’d be a shame to waste it.”

“Oh really?” Wonwoo snakes an arm around Soonyoung’s waist and pulls him closer. He feathers a soft kiss, two against the curve of Soonyoung’s neck, smiling at the slight tremor that it results in. “What kind of costume?”

“Now, that’s a surprise,” Soonyoung murmurs. His eyes slowly close, Sokka and Toph’s conversation fading into the background in favor of the sound of Wonwoo pressing his lips up and down his neck. “Get home as early as you can and find out.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

Soonyoung’s fully facing Wonwoo by now, and his breathing is beginning to shallow. He shivers as Wonwoo’s hands reach under his thin t-shirt to run up and down his sides. He muffles a whimper against Wonwoo’s shoulder as his legs unfurl from underneath him, ready to pull Wonwoo in between them. “ _You_ have to wear a costume too, though.”

Wonwoo makes a small noise of assent, and Soonyoung pulls away slightly. “Wonwoo,” he tells his husband seriously, trying not to giggle at the heavy, nearly cross-eyed expression of desire on Wonwoo’s face. _I love you, nerd,_ he thinks to himself, smiling to himself. “Tell me you’re going to get a costume too.”

“I promise to get a costume,” Wonwoo breathes out solemnly, tugging impatiently at Soonyoung’s shirt to pull him closer and to pull it off him. Soonyoung obliges, satisfied, reclining against the couch so that Wonwoo could press against him eagerly. 

Wonwoo’s got his shirt halfway off him when Soonyoung gasps and pulls the hem down.

“Wonwoo, not in front of Aang!”

—-

Wonwoo closes the door behind him quietly, wincing as the loud screams of children behind the thin apartment walls echo and bounce around the hall. He sighs, silently grateful that Soonyoung decided against handing out candy this year. Imagining the state of Soonyoung at the end of the evening had he decided to be generous this year and face the hordes of candy-loving children of their apartment all by himself was not a pleasant past-time. As it was, Wonwoo was grateful for Soonyoung’s foresight and sense of self-preservation. Sometimes he reveled in playing with kids, but there were days when he was short-tempered and impatient, and he was the last person to delight in people stomping all over his welcome mat.

“Honey? I’m home,” Wonwoo calls out, a tiny little shiver of delight coursing through him. Coming home to his life, his home, his husband never got old.

“I’m in bed,” Soonyoung calls out, and the blood starts to rush towards Wonwoo’s dick at the possibilities of what could be waiting for him when he opens the door to their bedroom. Soonyoung always enjoyed dressing up, but there was an extra level of attentiveness when Soonyoung was _dressing up_ for Wonwoo. Only Wonwoo is aware of the extent Soonyoung goes to make things interesting for the both of them, and for that reason Wonwoo is grateful. He doesn’t think he can look anyone in the eye if anyone else knows just what exactly Soonyoung lets him do to him, but in a way it’s special, the way they do things for each other.

Well, most of the time.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” Soonyoung deadpans. “I have half a mind to just pack this all up.”

“Hnghh,” Wonwoo breathes out in response, as the air in his chest stoppers his lungs from functioning. “I can’t believe you.”

“I can’t believe _you_!”

Wonwoo touches the tips of his cat ear headband defensively. “Oh come on, I was coming from work.”

“You couldn’t even shimmy into a sexy little catsuit for me?” Soonyoung sniffs, before stretching across the bed on his stomach. Wonwoo’s eyes follow the way his back curves out up into his derriere, which is round and gorgeous and encased in sinful black lace.

“Are you wearing a fucking corset, Soonyoung?”

Soonyoung lifts his nose haughtily, before shooting Wonwoo a saucy little look. It really suits the whole aesthetic he’s going for, what with the jaunty little maid hat perched on top of his head, the lace-and-ribbon choker tied around his neck, and the tightly-laced corset wrapped around his torso.

Wonwoo is almost salivating.

“Honestly, I shouldn’t even let you get into bed with me, what with your poor costume choices,” Soonyoung sniffs. In the dim light of their room, with the barely-heard thrums of guitar playing on their speakers and Soonyoung smack dab in the middle of their bed, eyeing him sulkily while looking like a fantasy, Wonwoo thinks he would pay any price for just a second of his time.

“Fuck, babe, you look…”

Soonyoung’s eyes darken a smidge, and Wonwoo sees his opening. “What?”

Wonwoo is shrugging out of his coat, walking slowly around the bed while tugging his tie loose. Soonyoung’s eyes follow his every move. “You look…” He lowers himself onto the bed on his knees, moving closer to the other until Soonyoung has to lift himself up to sit on his heels, just to maintain eye contact.

“Use your words, writer,” Soonyoung teases, voice low. He rests his weight on the soles of his feet, his knees spreading slightly. Wonwoo wants to lower his head and nose around at the lace gathered at his crotch, to run his tongue over Soonyoung’s growing hardness.

He resists, however. Soonyoung is looking up at him, a vision in black ribbon and white lace, the variation of a French maid costume looking absurdly good on his lean figure. The criss-cross of the ribbons running down the front of his corset is pulled tight, and Wonwoo leans down to press a soft kiss on the swell of Soonyoung’s upper chest around the top of it.

He lets out a soft whimper, and Wonwoo feels like he could die, just like this, a happy man.

“You look stunning.”

Soonyoung inches closer, just a little, to begin unbuttoning Wonwoo’s shirt. His silver hair glints as he continues to watch Wonwoo watch him undress him, coy underneath his lashes. “Go on, sir,” he purrs, smirking to himself as Wonwoo bites his lip in response.

“Like a dream.”

He finishes with the buttons, and tugs until the shirt is off, until Wonwoo’s wearing nothing but those damn cat ears and his slacks. It’s a look he’s into, but he’s not going to let Wonwoo know that, not yet anyway. “Tell me more.”

“Like every man’s goddamn fantasy.”

Soonyoung inhales, fingers reaching out to play with the catch of Wonwoo’s slacks, brushing deliberately over the press of his cock against the seam. Their eyes meet, challenging, heady, wanting.

“You look…”

“Oh fuck, Wonwoo, just touch me already.”

Wonwoo surges forward, fingers already reaching around to pull Soonyoung tight against him as they collapse into their pillows, mouths already seeking each other’s. Soonyoung makes a delighted little noise when Wonwoo’s tongue tangles with his, his palms already groping at his lacy buttcheeks, tugging them aside to reach underneath. He gasps, mouth opening wide, when Wonwoo’s thin fingers press all around his entrance, impatient.

“You’re already prepped,” Wonwoo notes gruffly, teeth making impatient little marks all over his neck. “Fuck, babe, please tell me you’ve got more of this, because I’m about to rip it off of you.”

“Wonwoo, no!” Soonyoung yelps. “This is fucking expensive.” 

Wonwoo starts to glower, and he writes an ode revolting against this across Soonyoung’s collarbone. Soonyoung tips his head back, making pleased little noises and gasps, enjoying the way Wonwoo runs his hands all over him, the softness of his chest spilling over the corset, the planes of his enclosed stomach and waist, the line of his cock straining against the panties he’d donned. He whimpers when Wonwoo cups him over the lace, pushes Wonwoo down until he gets the idea.

“I’m clean, I’m prepped, go for it before I explode.”

Soonyoung sees entire galaxies crumble when Wonwoo presses his tongue over his entrance through the lace, making tiny little jabs over his underwear to push it into him. “Fuck, oh fuck, my fucking shit, Wonwoo,” he babbles incomprehensibly, his hands reaching out to clutch at anything solid, finding purchase eventually on the headboard. “Wonwoo!” A long keening moan erupts out of him as Wonwoo pushes aside the lace and presses a whole finger into him, tongue tracing around his hole as he does so.

He pushes his hips into the air mindlessly as Wonwoo alternates between filling him with his fingers and his tongue, nearly sobbing without the friction he craves.

Wonwoo eats him out like it would net him a new bestseller, and while Soonyoung is usually happy to benefit, he doesn’t want to be out of commission so soon into the evening.

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, stop, stop,” Soonyoung begs weakly, fingers carding into the head of hair between his legs. His fingers catch against the cat ears, and he pulls them off unceremoniously.

“Hey,” Wonwoo protests. He scowls at Soonyoung, and he’d look more threatening if spit weren’t running down his chin. “That was my costume.”

“Your costume was lame. Accept it,” Soonyoung tells him, in a no-nonsense manner. “But I’m very forgiving.”

“Oh, are you?” Wonwoo says, voice low. He presses up to Soonyoung to press a soft kiss on his cheek and on his mouth, fingers toying with the bow at the crown of the grommets. 

“I am,” Soonyoung says, breath hitching in his throat.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung exhales, pitch heightened from Wonwoo’s ministrations. “What’ll you do to make it up to me?”

“I could…” Soonyoung bites back a groan when Wonwoo finally tugs on the bow. “God, you look so good in this lace. I could just feast on you all day. My beautiful one.” 

Soonyoung jerks, breathes when the ribbons loosen and the corset breaches open, and suddenly Wonwoo’s mouth is latching onto his left nipple, fingers caressing where the grooves of the bust have made marks on his skin.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung whimpers; his cock is straining so hard against the front of the panty, the head peeking over the edge of it. He’s barely been touched and he’s already on the edge. He swallows, before a guttural groan escapes him — Wonwoo’s nibbling and sucking on a sensitive nipple and Soonyoung feels like he would die if Wonwoo didn’t touch him right now. “Wonwoo, please, just, I need—”

“Here, let me, beautiful,” Wonwoo murmurs into his skin, and Soonyoung nearly sobs when Wonwoo wraps a hand around his cock and pumps him tight and hard. His hips piston into Wonwoo’s fist, grateful for the sensation and just eager to feel, eager to be touched. He turns his head into the pillow, almost cowed by how much want is coursing through him. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, Wonwoo, please, inside me,” Soonyoung spills out broken sentences, and is gathered into Wonwoo’s arms; he turns his head into Wonwoo’s neck, peppering kisses all over it, desperate for Wonwoo to hold him close and just fuck him until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore. “Fuck me, Wonwoo, please.”

Soonyoung feels Wonwoo nudge his legs open again, and he yells Wonwoo’s name shakily into the midnight air when Wonwoo’s fingers push into him just as his mouth wraps around his dick. 

“Won-hnghh!”

He spills into Wonwoo’s mouth, tremors running through him as he climaxes abruptly, the sensations altogether too much for him. He’s breathing shakily into the crook of his arm as Wonwoo draws away to pull him into his arms. “Shhhh, I got you, my beautiful one, you did so wonderful, you’re so good for me, always for me.”

The sweet little nothings are whispered into his ear in Wonwoo’s low voice and Soonyoung can’t help but whimper, whine into Wonwoo’s skin as he comes down from his high. Boneless, he watches as Wonwoo places wet kisses all over his neck, his chest, his face. He murmurs, soft and pliant, when Wonwoo traces a path down his sternum, inhaling sharply when he flicks fingers over his sensitive nubs.

“You are obsessed with my nipples.”

“They’re adorable,” Wonwoo muses; Soonyoung can feel him smile against his skin as his lips travel lower to suck hickies into his stomach. “I like your tummy even more.”

“You’re just saying that because I lost my abs.”

“I definitely prefer this to the abs,” Wonwoo argues playfully, and Soonyoung grins to himself, pleased. He hums quietly as Wonwoo waits for him to be ready again, the soft heady sensation of want rising again slowly with every swipe of Wonwoo’s tongue against his skin. 

“Wonwoo,” he murmurs, as Wonwoo tugs on the lace sitting on his hip to roll it down his legs, his lips slowly pressing against Soonyoung’s inner thighs. “Wonwoo, now.”

He’s rolled onto his stomach, his legs pushed until Wonwoo has enough space between them. “Please, just, I need you in me,” Soonyoung says, his insides already aching to be filled. He pushes a pillow underneath his hips for better leverage, and he hears Wonwoo push his trousers off and toss it to the side, before he feels Wonwoo press up against his back.

He would have made a pithy remark about how bony Wonwoo felt against him, but Wonwoo is swift, pushing his legs even further apart and filling him with two fingers right away. “Fuck, oh my God, Wonwoo,” he exhales shakily, eyes fluttering closed as they piston in and out of him, preparing him. “I told you, I’m ready. Just fucking fuck me—”

Soonyoung inhales sharply when Wonwoo guides his cock into him, both familiar and something he will never be used to. His length breaches him with every push of his hip, and Soonyoung whimpers shamelessly the deeper he gets inside of him. 

“Wonwoo fuck, faster, please, now.” 

And Wonwoo does, fucking into him over and over, his arms braced on either side of Soonyoung and cocooning him even as he’s destroying him. He registers, barely, Wonwoo pressing his mouth to the back of his neck, the mouthed praises of ‘good’, ‘so good’, ‘perfect for me’, ‘so good for me’ making his world tilt.

He’s stringing together words without cognizance, eyes screwed shut and moans just being pushed out of him with every thrust of Wonwoo’s hips into his. He takes a kind of debased pleasure in the litany of moans and whimpers raining between them both, the lurid sounds of skin hitting skin turning him on as much as Wonwoo fucking into him harder and harder.

When Wonwoo shifts angles and hits the spot, Soonyoung’s breath stammers in his chest. Reaching around blindly, he feels Wonwoo’s fingers lace through his before he lets go to reach down and around him so he could pump Soonyoung to the same pace as he hits that angle over and over again until everything turns white and Soonyoung is coming again over Wonwoo’s hand, pulses of pleasure coming over him in rolling waves, deep as heartbeats.

Hazily, he feels Wonwoo’s fingers spread over his hips and pull him up as he continues to plunge into him, though his rhythym is beginning to falter. Soonyoung buries his head deeper into the pillow underneath him and raises his hips higher, and soon, Wonwoo is gasping out deep staccato breaths, and Soonyoung feels him empty inside him before collapsing onto him.

After what seems like ages, Wonwoo pulls out of him gently; he pads over to their bathroom to grab Soonyoung’s favorite towel and runs it under water to be able to wash him properly.

“Look at you,” Wonwoo coos softly at Soonyoung, curled on his side, remnants of lace and ribbon lying about him and underneath him. Wonwoo thinks he looks divine; Soonyoung is just annoyed.

“Don’t think just because you’re being all soft on me I can let go of this,” Soonyoung warns, but his drooping eyes dull the admonition. He gathers all the tugged off pieces of costume on the corset before he hands it off to Wonwoo to put on their bedside table. “Wonwoo, I think I got cum on the corset. Tell me how we’re going to get cum out of corset.”

“It doesn’t matter, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo chuckles, wiping Soonyoung off gently and carefully. Soonyoung turns to his other side so that Wonwoo can have access to all of him. “I don’t intend on anyone else ever seeing you in that corset.”

“You say that now. God knows you have an exhibitionist streak inside you,” Soonyoung mutters under his breath.

“Says the number one exhibitionist I know,” Wonwoo teases him. He bends down and presses a kiss to Soonyoung’s nose, charmed beyond words. “You were perfect. Thank you.”

Soonyoung scrunches up his nose, but pinks. “You’re welcome. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Wonwoo’s helping Soonyoung get under the covers when Soonyoung’s expression brightens. “Hey, remember what we said last year? Happy November 1st again.”

Wonwoo laughs. “It sounds to me like we should be celebrating November 1st instead of Halloween every year instead.”

Soonyoung shrugs, tugs the covers until his chin, watching sleepily as Wonwoo heads over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up a little before bed. “Orgasms instead of dealing with hordes of tiny adults screaming if I want a trick or a treat? Sounds good to me.”

“Happy November 1st, then.”

“Back at you,” Soonyoung manages to say, before he nods off to bed.


End file.
